Heartless
by Ellsweetella
Summary: Ruthless, efficient, cold, Maleficent is the person to go to if you want someone to be removed. With a price, of course. Diaval is her assistant after he owes her his life. Together, they kill without a second thought. Heartless, that's what they call them. But their latest target, Aurora Gold might prove to be the hardest case ever. Maleval eventually.
1. Chapter 1

**Heartless**

Chapter One

The man is wearing a black suit with a neatly ironed tie. He walks with a slight limp on the right. The cane he is using glistened slightly under the dim light, the gold handle shimmering.

Professional.

Cold.

"Take a seat," he gives her a tight smile.

She complies without flinching, her eyes never leaving his.

"Midas," she greets him, resisting the urge to roll her eyes at his apparent lack of creativity.

"Maleficent," her name rolls from his tongue, leaving a rather bitter taste hanging in the air. "We have a new job for you."

"Of course." _Why else would you call me here?_

He slides a picture over and she picks it up.

"Brian Roid, more commonly known as 'the Tank'."

"I didn't know you were interested in street gangs now," she said, a unfeeling smile flitters over her lips.

He ignores her remark. "Name your price."

She hums, looking at the picture once more. "100 000 now, another 300 000 after the job."

"Goliath wants it clean." He slides the money over.

"Of course." She takes the crisp bills in her hands and puts them into her bag after counting.

"It's… nice meeting you."

"Likewise."

She stands up and leaves, her heels clicking against the floor, echoing.

…..

Tracking Brian Roid wasn't difficult. He is arrogant and vain, showing off every moment he has a chance to. He often frequents The Laughable Tavern, which is indeed laughable. It is a sleazy pub, filled with drunkards and low ranking gangsters. Maleficent doesn't understand why would Goliath want Roid dead. He seems harmless, crazily annoying at most.

Still, it isn't her job to ask questions. All she has to do is corner him and pull the trigger.

She gags as she walks along the vomit cover pavements to the pub. She is glad that she has swapped her five-inch stilettoes for a pair of old sneakers she felt no love for.

"Fuck me. Fuck me right here. Now," a scantily clad woman who looks barely eighteen moans, straddling a man thrice her age. He gives a grunt and slams her back against the wall.

That must have hurt.

Maleficent shudders. All she wants is to finish this goddamn job and have a nice long steamy bath when she gets home.

She checks the time. Two in the afternoon. Roid should be inside the bar.

She continues walking, this time keeping her eyes straight. No looking sideways. She doesn't want to see anymore disgusting PDA.

A few more blocks and she will be there. Just a few more blocks and she can go home. Just a few-

Someone lands in front of her feet. It's a man with ink black hair that reaches his collarbones.

"Move," she commands.

"What?" Ah. So he is Irish.

"You are in my way. Would you please move?"

He scrambles up. "Yes, yes. I'm sorry."

She rolls her eyes and continues her walk.

"What is a lady like you doing in such a neighbourhood?" he asks, running to catch up with her.

"It's none of your business," she says, her voice clipped and cold.

He hums. "You'd better be careful around here. Lotsa crazy stuff."

He really doesn't know when to back off.

She decides to ignore him. Maybe he would leave her alone.

He continues his ramblings, talking about the weather, the grass that grew near the sidewalk, yadda yadda.

"Why are you following me?" she hisses, glaring at him. If he screws her job up, she will kill him.

He blinks. "I'm not following you. I'm going to The Laughable Tavern, right there around the corner."

What?

She frowns but says nothing.

She watches him enter the tavern and she sighs, slipping to the back alley.

Now she has to wait for Roid to get his drunken ass out of the bar and into the alley for his 3.30 piss.

She slides her Glock from the holster at her thigh and loads it.

2.40

2.50

3.00

3.10

A man is shoved out of the back door, his forehead bleeding.

Brian emerges behind that bleeding man with dark hair, his face twisted in a smile.

"Still not able to pay up eh," he sneers.

"I promise you that I will pay you ASAP," the bleeding man pleads.

"The hell you will." Roid grips him by the collar, lifting him up into the air. "Fuck you," he spits and the man went flying across, landing on his back with a painful crunch.

Before the man could recover, Roid kicks him in the stomach.

Maleficent winces a little. If Roid continues doing whatever he's doing, the poor man would be dead.

She sighs and lifts her gun, aiming for his head.

Roid crumbles down, his body collapsing onto the bleeding man.

Maleficent walks out from the shadows, tucking her gun safely back into it's holster.

"Y-You killed him!" the bleeding man half shouts, shoving Roid off his body. He… Is he that annoying man that literally fell at her feet? "Oh my god. Y… You killed him!"

She rolls her eyes. "Enough with the dramatics."

"You _killed _a man!" he stage whispers, panic written all over his pale face.

"I saved your life," she raises an eyebrow.

He looks down on his newly blood stained shirt.

"What have you done to my beautiful self?" he asks, hurt creeping into his voice.

"You almost died and all you can think about is your shirt," she gives him a deadpanned expression.

"It's my favourite," he murmurs.

"Are you helping me or what," she is growing impatient.

"What?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I have a dead body to dispose."

Panic returns to his face and she knows that he is going to have a breakdown.

"What is your name?" she commands.

"D-Diaval?"

"Diaval, I need you to listen to me. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out."

He nods tentatively and follows her instruction, composure returning to him.

"I know you are very intelligent, Diaval. I need you to follow my instructions."

They drag the body into a bag and dump it in her car before driving off.

"Where are you taking me?" he asks, a little afraid of what's to come.

"I'm showing you how to dispose a body. Professionally."

The car stops and she took the bag out. Carefully, she spreads sheets of plastic onto the ground and took a huge knife out of her bag.

"If you are queasy, I suggest you do not look."

Diaval cocks his head in confusion but as she strikes down on the corpse, realisation dawns on him.

"I'm ok."

"Good boy."

She finishes the business quickly, dumping the body parts into the bag.

"Strip," she states, looking at him.

He doesn't move, staring at her in confusion. Did she just asked him to-

"I said strip," she sighs and peels off her black dress.

Oh. He blushes crimson, turning his head away. He strips himself of his blood stained clothes, trying his very best not to sneak peeks at the beautiful woman who is currently almost naked.

She pulls out a hoodie from her handbag-how many things can she fit in there?-and passes it to him. He wears it. It smells of earth and springtime.

She puts on another dress and leads him to a small incinerator near the building. Opening it up, she dumps the bag containing body parts and their clothes.

"Done. All clear," she shrugs and pulls out her phone. _The package has been delivered._

"Who are you?" Diaval asks, his eyes wide in both fear and awe.

Her lips curl into a smirk. "Maleficent, assassin."

"Maleficent," he echoes. He likes her name, how it rolls off his tongue, how it has a bitter yet sweet after taste. He likes it.

"Now, Diaval," she looks at him in the eyes, entrapping him. "I have saved your life."

"Yes you have."

She smiles.

He gulps.

"You have a debt to pay."

"You will be my assistant from today. Do not worry about accommodation or food. All will be provided for. Your job is very simple. Do what I say. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Diaval manages a small smile, the gears in his brain twisting and turning.

An assassin. That will make a really, _really _good idea for a story.

"Diaval?"

"Yes Maleficent?"

"Tell me about yourself."

"I am a novelist. Stop snorting! Fine. I am a future novelist…"

They get into the car and she drives off into the sunlight.


	2. Chapter 2

**Heartless**

Chapter 2

"No way," his eyes are wide open with unadulterated awe.

Maleficent hides a smirk, secretly glad that her apartment could actually amaze someone.

"How?" he asks.

He twirls around (yes, he twirled), looking at the intricately designed ceiling with golden swirls that converged together into one ball, a sun with its rays spreading across the ceiling. Dark vines creep up the walls, twisting and turning, creating an illusion of a forest. The furniture is mostly green-forest green-in colour, fitting into the forest theme her house seems to have.

"You really want to know?"

"… No," he sighs. He really does not want to know how many people she had to kill to afford these.

"Good. When you are done gaping, please take a seat," she shrugs and plops down on a sofa, her legs crossing.

He follows her, his eyes never really leaving the walls.

"Since you are now under my employment, there has to be some rules," she starts off. "One, you can do anything you want unless it interferes with the job, is potentially harmful to me and my career or compromises my position. Two, you must not tell anyone about this job. Three, sell me out and I will kill you. Four, no bringing girls, guys, whatever floats your boat, back here for your sexual adventures. Five, just don't ask. Six… Are you listening to me?"

"Yes, of course. I just look like I'm daydreaming."

"Right. I am tired of talking. Look through the contract and sign it," she hands him a file and a pen.

"How?" _Where did that contract come from? _He is positively sure that Maleficent did not have the chance to touch any computers from the moment they met.

She smirks. "As I said, don't ask."

"Right," he murmurs, looking through the lengthy booklet. "You can't be held liable for any harm that comes in my way?"

"Diaval, this 'job' is never safe. Don't worry, I intend to keep you alive as long as possible."

"Okay…" he frowns and goes back reading the weird contract he is forced to sign. He isn't complaining, not really. It might not be so bad after all, singing a contract with the devil herself. He doesn't have anything else in his life. He has no payable job, no house, no family, no life… This could be a new adventure for him.

He passes the booklet back to Maleficent, who had magically conjured up a glass of wine and is currently sipping on it contently.

"Any questions?"

He stills. He does have a question but he is afraid that she would be mad. It really isn't that appropriate.

"Go on," she urges, sensing his twitching curiosity.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Kill. H-how do you kill?"

Her gaze drops, softening just a little bit before it goes back to it's usual steel.

"I am heartless. I don't feel." Her lips curled up, her eyes of blue swirled with green and yellow pierced his.

"Do I have to kill?"

"No. You are my wings, my personal spy and hopefully, you wouldn't have to kill."

"But if I have to?"

A pregnant pause filled the space between them. "Then you shall get used to it."

He knows that despite her saving his life, she is no saint. His life, it was a one in a million chance. He needs to know. He needs to know her story. Everyone has a story, even murderers.

The silence is thick and heavy, pressing against their throats.

"Welcome then. Welcome to the Moors."

…..

_A few tedious years later_

"You did not just base a character off me," Maleficent hisses, glaring at the gloating man.

"Yes I did. And before you say anything, I quote 'one, you can do anything you want unless it interferes with the job, is potentially harmful to me and my career or compromises my position.' You did say that I can do _anything_," he throws her a cheeky grin. "Besides, you really are slow catching up with the news."

"I apologise for not reading pointless entertainment news."

"It's been three years."

She sighs and drank the glass of wine in one single gulp.

This Diaval will be the death of her. How did she put up with him for the past few years?

Oh right. He is _annoyingly _resourceful, _maddeningly _stealthy, _crazily _good at his job… And his _pancakes_. Oh god.

And she may or may not have gotten used to his presence.

Her phone beeps. _Midas_. Again. She looks at Diaval, who is creating a… a nest?

"Diaval, enough with your nonsense. We have a new case."

He puts down his latest best seller-Night Fall-in the middle of the nice little nest he is creating and catches up with Maleficent.

Maleficent is a mystery he may never get to solve. All these years and all he knew about her was that her mother was dead and her father is as good as dead. Not once had he seen her cry. Not once had he seen her truly smile. Not once had he seen a hint of emotion in her, other than the cold calmness, the sarcastic amusement or the anger that barely grazed the surface of what she could truly feel.

There is one thing for sure though. Maleficent was someone that you could trust. She never breaks her promises. All these years and he has never killed someone and never truly faced death. She is a professional. She completes her cases with precision, never faltering, never getting attached. She is as heartless as she claims to be.

But sometimes, just sometimes, Diaval could see the undercurrents beneath the calm waters, the raging waves that are waiting to be unleashed.

He gets into the car and it jumps to life at Maleficent's touch.

Oh boy. Here it goes.

He closes his eyes and hopes that they won't get into a car accident. Let's just say that Maleficent enjoyed speed.

…..

There is a heavy scent of tobacco when they walk into the same dimly lit room. Midas is there, as usual, on his golden throne.

It has always been Midas or some other second/third in command meeting them. They never got to meet Goliath or the other masterminds, or puppeteers, as Diaval prefers to calls them.

He hates meeting these guys. It always gives him the creeps, like invisible insects crawling under his skin.

"Ah, the infamous duo, on time as always," he gives them the same sickening smirk. "And Diaval, congratulations on your new book."

"Thank you," he replies curtly.

"Let's skip the mock pleasantries and go straight into business shall we?" Maleficent takes a seat with Diaval next to her.

"This case is utmost importance and failure means death," Midas's voice turns deep and dark. He slides a picture forward.

Maleficent picks it up.

It is a young teenager, around the tender age of sixteen. She has hair of spun gold and eyes as clear as day, innocent brimming from her, just like a lily in bloom. She is just a young child, too young to be part of any conspiracy, too young to be killed.

He turns, watching Maleficent. He catches a flicker of hesitance and an emotion he has no name for in her clouded eyes.

"Aurora Rose, bastard child of Stefan Gold, CEO of Golden Lace," Midas continued. "Goliath wants you to take her out by her sixteenth birthday. That leaves you three months to do your research, get close to her and kill her."

"She is only fifteen," Diaval whispers. What was he like when he was fifteen?

Bands, basketball, school, girls, bullies, writing…

He remembered having huge dreams, anticipating the future. Sure, he had searched for death but he is now glad he didn't die.

But Aurora… She will have her life snatched away from her, just like the countless men before her. The difference is that she is still so very young…

Just like Rae, when she died.

"Yes, yes she is but Goliath wants her dead," Midas's lips curled into a cruel smile.

Maleficent is silent, her shoulders tensed and her fingers curled into claws. Diaval could feel the sudden rage that began to stir in her, boiling and waiting to explode.

He reaches out and holds her hand.

What is it that made her angry?

"Diaval, please wait for me in the car," she commands, deep and dark.

"No," he insists, his chin lifted up in defiance.

"Please." There is a soft plead masked in her hardened voice, undetectable to those who don't know her well.

Diaval stands up and leaves, silently afraid of what she will do.

She watches Midas's men escort Diaval out and her focus is back on Midas. He still has that cruel smirk on his arrogant face, his nose upturned and proud.

"Have a secret to hide?"

"Who doesn't?" she smiles.

"Afraid that your little pet will uncover it?"

"Afraid that he will sabotage my case."

"He has too much emotions, that boy," Midas chuckles. "I never saw you as a team player. You work better on your own."

"Aurora Rose you say? Illegitimate child of Stefan Gold?" she changes the subject with ease.

"Yes. The pay out will be generous."

"I want to meet Goliath."

"I'm afraid you can't."

"It is time to know who I am working with," her voice drops, turning deadly and cold.

"You are becoming impudent my dear child. Know your place." His voice matched hers.

The air is heavy with deadly tension that threatens to break and release havoc.

"I apologise." Her eyes never left his.

"And I accept it. Here is 500 000. You will receive another 500 000 when the job is done."

She accepts the duffel bag filled with money.

She looks at the picture, a wash of rage curling through her veins.

Finally. She can have her revenge.

For a moment, she had thought she pitied the young child. For a moment, she had thought she had become weak.

But she isn't and she is glad.

Seventeen years. She can finally hurt him the way he had hurt her.

…..

"You accepted the case," he is soft yet strong.

"Yes."

"Why did you accept it?" There is more to the question, she knows.

"It is my job to do so."

"It is your job to kill children?" There is anger in his voice that Maleficent never knew existed.

"It is my job to kill anyone I am told to kill."

"She is only fifteen," he looks at her accusingly, his voice breaking just a little bit.

"I know."

"You know and yet you are…"

"Your emotions are getting the better of you, Diaval."

He looks at her, pain and anger swirls into one, blinding his judgement, masking his eyes.

"I am not a monster like you!" he shouts, the words slipping through before he could think.

Monster. He called her a monster. It is true, she supposes. Ten years of killing has made her a monster. Ten years, countless of death. She is a monster but hearing it out loud actually hurts a little.

"Diaval," she calls him as he slowly backs away, fear written all over his face.

And in that moment, she knows.

Diaval isn't one who lets his emotions get in the way, at least not when he is with her. There is something about Aurora that reminds him of someone, someone close. Someone who…

"What happened to her?"

He stops, hot angry tears rolls down his face.

"What makes you think I will tell you?" he grins, the smile never reaching his eyes. "What makes you think I will tell you my story when you never tell me anything."

"Diaval," she finds herself stuck, without any words to say.

"No, no. It's ok. I am over reacting. I apologise," his grin broadens and he walks away. "I will be fine by morning."

The change in emotions scared her. She is silent, watching his back disappear from her sight.

She isn't a good partner, if this could even count as a partnership.

Maybe Midas was right. She is better off alone.

….

**A/N: **I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are greatly appreciated. Just to clarify, Maleficent is now 35 and Diaval is 33.


	3. Chapter 3

**Heartless**

Chapter 3

"_Diaval," he hears her voice clearly, echoing through the darkness with fear dripping off the edges of her words._

_He runs, searching for the source of the cries. His mouth moves in a silent prayer, hoping that he could get to Rae. His heart is pounding wildly against his chest as fear fills his stomach._

_The backdrop changes, trees lining his vision. It is silent now and he can only hear his footsteps and his slight panting. _

"_Rae?" he calls out. _

_Silence. _

"_Rae!" he shouts, louder and more desperate._

_There is a chilling sense of dread as the silence grew. He casts a glance at the forest ahead, takes in a deep breath, and runs, allowing the towering trees to swallow him up._

_He doesn't mind the darkness but it is different this time. It has now morphed into a ceiling that presses down on him, into smoke that fills his lungs. _

_He continues to run, calling out his sister's name every few steps. _

_He remembers how paranoid his sister is, how she acted like there was someone following her, how she checked the lock over and over again, how she dared not leave the house without being accompanied. _

"_Diaval!" he hears his sister's voice once again._

"_Rae!"_

_Silence._

_He sprints. _

_He finds Rachel Ryan on the forest ground, blood soaking through her clothes. _

_His knees buckle as he fights the urge to empty his stomach. She is only fifteen. Only fifteen. _

_And he has failed as a brother. _

_He should have listened to her, should have asked her what was wrong. He should have been there for her. He should have-_

_The trees seems to be moving onto him, their canopies looming dangerously low above his head. _

_There is a sickening crunch as everything toppled over him._

Diaval wakes up with a start, the fear and pain still fresh in his mind. He lies on the bed, trying to control his ragged breaths. That memory has been haunting him since that very night.

Rachel Ryan was his younger sister. She was born on April fool's and their father had thought that his wife was pulling his leg when she called him announcing that she was in labour. When he realised that it wasn't a joke, he had grabbed the three-year-old Diaval and sped all the way to the hospital, just in time to welcome Rachel.

Diaval remembers the first time he saw her. She was so tiny and rather ugly, her face all squashed up. But she opened her eyes, revealing a pair of blue orbs. While his was as dark as the starless sky, hers was as bright as spring.

"She's your sister, love," his mother smiled and ruffled his hair. "It's your job to protect her."

She was his sister, he was her brother and he would protect her.

But he broke his own promise.

He squeezes his eyes shut, counting until the knot in his stomach relaxes, just like what his therapist used to say.

He counts to sixty before he jumps out of bed, his head still pulsing. He needs a drink. Something cold, something strong, something that can numb him and soon, he will be back to normal.

….

The whiskey burns as it slicks down her throat. Maleficent pours herself another glass and brings it up to her nose, slowly enjoying the smell that filled her nose. She takes a sip, savouring the earthy taste in her mouth.

She is grateful for the alcohol that keeps her emotions in check. It is easy to drink, easy to go numb but it is hard to forget that she is a contract killer. It is hard to pretend that she is just a mere CEO of a small publishing company. She finishes the remainder of the whiskey in a single mouth and proceeds to refill.

She wants to sleep. Her body aches for it but she can't. Sleep does not come easily to her and when it does, it is never a peaceful rest.

Her mind drifts and she thinks about Diaval, the man who she saved three and a half years ago. A man who she is now using as a personal servant. Sometimes, she feels bad for binding him to a ten-year contract but at the same time she really needed someone to just be there. She had signed Diaval on on an impulse and maybe she was wrong. She shouldn't have done that. She shouldn't have dragged an innocent man down with her.

She hears the familiar light footsteps of Diaval and she turns just in time to see him emerge from the stairs.

"Whiskey?" she offers.

"Please," he murmurs, sitting next to her at the counter.

She pours him a glass and they drink in silence.

Silence has always been their thing.

It isn't a surprise to find him awake at such an ungodly hour. They have one thing in common-their insomnia. She doesn't know what is keeping him up but she knows that it isn't any different from hers.

"My mother was murdered when I was fifteen," she blurts out. Maybe it is the alcohol running in her veins, the heaviness of the air, or the words he said earlier that made her want to tell him more about herself.

His back straightens just a little bit.

"It was my birthday and she promised to celebrate it with me. So I waited for her at home, for hours. I called her time and time again but they never got through. Just a little after midnight, a detective came and told me that my mother was found dead in a forest," there is a form of detachment in her voice, like she has told the story a hundred times before.

She turns to towards him, expecting pity from him. There isn't. There isn't sympathy in his eyes, not even an inch. There is only empathy, an understanding glance with a tinge of sadness.

"It looks like your character has a backstory now," she gives him a wry smile.

He looks at her with an emotion she can't read, scaring her just the slightest.

"Thank you," he smiles gently. "Although it is rather weird that I am thanking you for telling me-"

She rolls her eyes.

"Although I did prefer my heartless, coldblooded killer Jade Night," he shrugs, a smile twinkling in his eyes.

She can't stop the chuckle that escapes through her lips that stuns both Diaval and her. The smile on his face only widens.

She finishes her drink and puts it in the sink.

"Goodnight," she says softly.

"Goodnight," he echoes, watching her climb the stairs.

She gives him a flitting smile that disappears in a blink before disappearing from his sight.

Maybe it could work. This partnership. The writer and the assassin.

…..

She is sipping on the coffee he made, staring at the Ipad on her lap.

He steals glances of her as he continues to make their breakfast, scrambled eggs and toast. He watches as her eyebrows furrow in concentration. She puts the mug down on the coffee table and starts typing furiously on the attached keyboard, her lips pursed in concentration.

She looks rather adorable.

"Diaval, the eggs will burn if you continue staring at me," she said, her eyes never leaving the screen.

That is rather creepy.

He goes back to the eggs, which has long become a cross between an omelette and scrambled eggs.

They will have to do.

He serves her breakfast and she plucks a piece of toast from the plate, nibbling on it as she continues to be absorbed in the technology presented before her.

It isn't unusual for her to do it. He is rather used to it. Maleficent takes her job seriously, always doing a thorough homework before killing someone. He doesn't know if he should admire her or feel horrendously disturbed.

He is still disturbed and upset over their latest case but he pushes away the emotions, forcing himself to believe that Aurora is just another case, like the other mobsters they had killed over the years.

It is difficult. She reminds him too much off-

"Let's go," she interrupts his inner monologue and closes her laptop and stands up.

He blinks, collecting himself before following Maleficent out.

They get into her car and as usual, she is the one driving.

"These are all the information I could gather about Aurora online," she says as she hands him the Ipad.

He starts scrolling.

Birthday: December 15 1998

That would give them a little less than three months.

So Aurora Rose, or rather, Aurora Gold, is living with her three aunts, goes to Rosemary High School and her mother is currently missing.

He supposes that they are going to her school right now and probably stalk her from there to learn her habits and pattern.

If there is one thing he learnt from this job, it is that everyone has a pattern of living, conscious or not and that, made them vulnerable.

The car slows to a stop and Maleficent turns towards him with a devilish smile on her face.

Oh no.

"You have been invited as a guest speaker to Rosemary High School," she announces, pushing him out of the car.

Wait, what?

* * *

**A/N: **Please drop a review if you wish to! :D Reviews are always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Heartless**

Chapter 4

Maleficent feels a little guilty for throwing Diaval inside a pool of teenagers but he is the best man to know Aurora, to get the first close look of who she is. Besides, she trusts him and his abilities.

She has her own duties-find out more about Aurora's background.

She doesn't actually need to know about her target's backstory but she is curious. No, not curious, it doesn't fully encompass her emotions. She wants to get the timeline straight. She needs to know.

She has to know who the mother is.

It is stupid of her, really, to want to know who the mother is.

Based on her calculations, the mother should have given birth to Aurora approximately fifteen months after Stefan's betrayal.

She isn't angry with the mother. She pities her.

The rage in her is no longer the burning fire it had been. It has now become a dull aching throb, a shadow of the explosion she had felt seventeen years ago. It is an old injury that doesn't fully heal, a reminder of the pain. She doesn't know which she prefer. The constant nagging pain or the quick, sudden explosion that blinded her.

She just wants to know why the mother is missing.

In front of her are the disjointed puzzle pieces, seemingly from different puzzles. But she knows. She knows they are somehow connected by a bigger piece. The missing piece that binds all the questions together.

Her mother's murder.

Stefan's betrayal.

Her father's drug addiction.

And now, Aurora's mother.

If she can find her, maybe, maybe she will find some answers.

"Hi, I am Detective Salt," she introduces herself, under a pseudo name of course, to the three women.

"Yes! We spoke on the phone," the one in green-Thistlewhit, if the description is correct, chirped, and blissfully unaware of Maleficent's true identity.

"Yes. Thank you for agreeing to this sudden visit," she smiles as sweetly as she can at the three women.

"Come on in," the one in pink-Knotgrass- invites her into their house.

The living room is decorated with all sorts of trinkets, ranging from small Russian dolls to a faux lion head. Vases of flowers are found at almost every corner of the room, soaking the place with their awfully bright colours. There seem to be a form of colour scheme-blue, pink and green.

"Take a seat. Would you like some tea?" the blue one-Flittle-asks.

"Would you like some coffee?" Thistlewhit asks.

They glare at each other, almost ready to tear the hair of each other's head.

"No thanks," Maleficent quickly rejects them, before anything crazy starts.

"You want to know about Aurora's mother?" Knotgrass eyes her with a tinge of suspicion.

Knotgrass is a little smart. Smarter than the other two, at the very least.

"We believe that she is connected to a case, which details I am in no position to divulge," the lie slips out from her easily.

"Our cousin, she-" Flittle starts.

"Let me tell her," Knotgrass interrupts.

"I want to tell her," Flittle protests.

"I should be the one to tell her. I am the oldest after all."

"Just this once."

"Good."

Maleficent watches them with impatience. She really doesn't have the time to deal with their bickering.

"Ms Knotgrass?"

"Yes. Our cousin-"

"Our cousin has been missing for sixteen years now, after passing Aurora to us with a specific set of instructions. She used to keep in touch with us, until ten years ago? That was when all traces of her existence were wiped away," Thistlewhit interrupts and babbles on.

"What did she say when she left?"

"She told us to keep Aurora safe, never contact her and to report her missing."

"If you can't contact her, why would she contact you?"

"She sends us money for Aurora, always from different countries," Thistlewhit explains.

"But all of them stopped six years ago?"

"Yes. I- We really shouldn't be telling you this," she becomes flustered and her eyes flickers over to her two sisters.

"I understand. But she is a crucial part of the investigation. I appreciate it."

"Yes," it is Knotgrass this time. "We are happy to help but this is all we can offer."

"Detective Salt?" Flittle asks tentatively.

"Yes?"

"Is she in trouble?"

Maleficent bites her lower lips. She honestly does not know. Hearing from them, it seems that their cousin is in a lot of trouble.

"I don't know," she is truthful, for once.

"What is her name?" she asks.

"Leah. Leah Rose."

"Here's a picture," Knotgrass hands Maleficent a faded old picture of a smiling woman with golden hair.

A chill runs down her spine.

She knows why Leah is missing.

Leah is dead.

She killed her ten years ago, her very first case.

"Detective? Ten years ago, a man came and asked about Leah," Thistlewhit states.

"What is his name?"

"He called himself Goliath."

…

Diaval peeks out from the pillar, making sure that the coast is clear.

Please. No more fangirls or fanboys.

He has almost forgotten how scary teenagers can be. He shudders, remembering how some students tried to tear off his shirt while pretending to fall on him.

Not cool. He is just a lowly author, not Benedict Cumberbatch.

"Mr Diaval?" a sweet feminine voice whispered beside his ear.

He jumps slightly and swings behind.

He sighs in relief. He thought that it was one of the overly passionate fans. Don't get him wrong. He loves that people likes his work but sometimes, it gets creepy, especially when they start to invade his privacy.

Luckily, it is Aurora behind him.

"Sorry if I scared you," she apologises sweetly.

"No, not a problem," Diaval smiles at her.

It is a chance to know her better.

"I'm sorry to bother you but I have a few questions regarding your works." She is polite but doesn't loose the natural affability that makes people want to connect with her.

"It's not a bother. We should talk somewhere else though," he raises his eyebrows.

They walk to the benches in front of the school and settle down.

"So, what do you want to know?"

Aurora takes in a deep breath.

"What are your writing habits? How do you come up with such plots and where do you find your inspiration? Who exactly is Jade Night? And why is she an assassin? What made her that way? There must be something that makes her so cold and unfeeling. I don't believe that someone can be so cruel." Questions streams out from her without any chances of rest.

She is... enthusiastic, he guesses.

"I write as often as I can. Not necessarily connected to the novel I am working on. It is important to have the momentum running especially when I have writer's block. As for inspiration, erm, I have a really good muse."

"A muse?"

"Yes, well. Before my novels are published, a businesswoman as her housekeeper hired me. I am still her housekeeper, sort of, based on the ten-year contract I signed. She is a very interesting woman, I must say," Diaval shrugs, a tad awkward.

This is the story he gives people. Maleficent is a businesswoman and he is her employee.

Aurora giggles with a knowing glint in her eyes.

"No, we're not sleeping together," Diaval says flatly.

"I didn't ask," Aurora's smile grows bigger.

"You didn't ask really loudly. Let's get back to the questions."

"Yes."

"I can't tell you about Jade Night's backstory. Spoilers, you know?" Diaval grins.

Aurora gives him a familiar eye roll.

"You don't know about her back story don't you?" she smirks, her eyes narrowing onto his.

"I do!" he retorts, a little too indignantly. He has his own theories about Maleficent's backstory, theories he doesn't dare to verify.

And this is about Jade Night, not Maleficent. He knows Jade Night. Jade Night is his character.

"What are your favourite books?" she is asking another question. She is a curious one.

"Wuthering Heights," he mumbles, pink colouring his cheeks.

The smile on her face grows. She smiles a lot. "I didn't know you are a fan of gothic literature, although it does explain your writing."

"Thank you for answering my questions, Mr Diaval," she smiles at him.

"It's a pleasure," he bows.

"Diaval," he hears _her _voice.

He turns and as he had expected, she is there. Maleficent is there, in her five-inch stilettoes, staring at him with that signature rise of her eyebrows.

"It's time to go," Maleficent has a small smile on her face.

"It's a pleasure meeting you, Aurora," Diaval nods his head.

"Will Jade Night have a happy ending?" she calls out.

His gaze falls onto Maleficent.

"I hope so."

…

"_Goliath is pleased with your performance," Midas has his usual icy smile on his face._

_Maleficent studies him, waiting for the rest._

"_He plans to promote you but you have to prove yourself."_

_She used to beat people up for a 'living'.  
_

"_I understand. What would you like me to do?"_

_He handed her a picture. _

"_Kill her," he stated with a shrug._

_She took the picture, a little shocked. She didn't… She wasn't…_

_She wasn't one to kill. _

_But she had to do it. She must do it. _

"_Of course." She pushed the disgust and fear away and forced herself to accept it. _

_She was handed a gun and all the information on her target. _

_There wasn't a name, though. _

_Maleficent took in a deep breath and entered the motel room, making sure that no camera caught her. _

_The gun was heavy in her hands, a vial of power that could bring death and destruction in a blink._

_Her target was asleep when she walked into the room. _

_She aimed._

_The target's eyes flew open._

_The bullet tore through her forehead, silencing her pleads. The blood soaked through the sheets._

_She could feel the corner of her heart turn into ice. _

_It wasn't long before her whole heart froze._

…..

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update. Read and review? :D


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